


Daffodil Nights

by glitteringeva



Category: RWBY
Genre: AU, Airport AU, F/F, Flashbacks, Modern AU, PTSD, Post-Break Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringeva/pseuds/glitteringeva
Summary: On their way to the same wedding Winter and Vernal get stranded at an airport somewhere in Germany. With nothing to avoid each other their shared past haunts both of them.(Takes place right before Lavender Honey, an upcoming story of mine about said wedding.)





	Daffodil Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adox/gifts).



There were only so many reasons not to talk to her, and with nothing but four empty seats between them, three in the morning, an empty airport somewhere in Germany, those few reasons she had were slowly slipping through her fingers until everything that was left was her pride.

Vernal had always been the first to give in, and she refused to fall back into old patterns that quickly. The battery of her phone was dying (another excuse to ignore her that failed her), so she shoved it back into the pocket of her sweatpants and got up. There was no way she was gonna ask her to watch her luggage, so she put on her heavy backpack and left the seated area.

She didn’t turn around.

The only stores still open were a duty free shop and a McDonald’s. A bored teenager was standing behind the counter of the McDonald’s, looking at her as if he was begging her not to bother him. She wasn’t in the mood of doing someone a favour tonight.

“Can I have a cup of coffee?” she asked and put her backpack down to search for her purse. “Do you accept credit cards?”

The teenager looked at her and then said something in German. Vernal waited for him to continue in English, but this bored teenager seemed to be eager to prove everyone wrong who had told her that literally everyone in Germany spoke English.

“Coffee,” Vernal repeated and pulled out her credit card, waving it in front of his face.

He said something in German again, slower this time.

Vernal looked at the menu in front of her. Ironically it was in both German and English. She pointed at the column that read _coffee_ and gave him an annoyed glare.

He shook his head. Held up his hand as if he wanted to give her a high five.

“Screw it, then.” She shoved her purse into the pocket of her jeans and lifted her heavy backpack once again.

There was no way the duty free shop would distract her for more than a couple of minutes, so she headed back to the seating area. She wondered if she would look at her, if there was any way she could just forget about her presence, but she hadn’t stopped thinking about her ever since seeing her outside of the airport back in the States, almost forgetting how hot it was outside over the shivers that suddenly ran down her spine.

Winter was still staring at her laptop. Something about watching her work had always bothered Vernal and she had many theories why. Maybe because Winter had always had this way of making her feel like work came first and she came second. Maybe because professional Winter was so different from the Winter she had fallen in love with. Maybe because she had always feared that one day Winter would decide she had to pick between those two versions of her, and she had always felt like the less formal, less stiff, less bottled up Winter wouldn’t be the one she would choose, even though it would have been better for her, and if she was honest for Vernal as well.

 

* * *

 

Vernal knew customers like her. She had neatly folded her blouse when she had taken it off and now almost shamefully covered her breasts with her cardigan when she looked at herself in the mirror even though they were alone now. She wasn’t eighteen, but she had enough cash to make Vernal’s boss forget about asking for her ID.

The design she had picked was almost too beautiful for the place he had chosen for it. Her rips, where only few people would ever see it. Hazel had made sure it would still look good when she was wearing her bra, but Vernal didn’t get why she even got it when she didn’t fully commit to it. Just another rich girl trying to revolt against the parents with whose money she had paid them, a tattoo as an invisible complaint that she’d never say out loud. Vernal had never seen the point in symbolism that was hidden from those it was addressed at.

She hadn’t even flinched though. Not for a second. 

“It looks good,” Vernal said, more out of necessity. Of course it did look good, a bright yellow chrysanthemum in Hazel’s style that Vernal still admired. But a girl like her probably didn’t need more compliments than she already got.

“Yes.” The way she said it made Vernal regret saying anything at all. Entitled bitch.

“I’ll give you instructions on how to take care of it, we have a copy somewhere.” She turned around to search for it. It was her job to make sure they always had enough, she was glad Hazel wasn’t here to lecture her about it.

“He already explained what to do,” she said. “And I did some research.”

“I’ll still give you a copy.” Vernal got up. At least this gave her an excuse not to be around her for a moment. “I’ll go get it for you. Don’t get dressed yet, we have to cover it up first.”

She couldn’t help but to think that despite how pretty she was, it was a shame no one would ever see the tattoo.

 

* * *

 

“Can you watch my luggage for a moment?”

Vernal looked up from her sketchbook. Winter was standing in front of her, holding her purse in her hand. Vernal wished she had her headphones so she could pretend she hadn’t heard her. “Where are you going?” she asked as if it was any of her business.

“Just getting myself a cup of coffee somewhere. Do you want anything?”

“I tried that too, but the cashier at McDonald’s refused to server me and only spoke German.”

“I’ll ask him what his issue was.” She gave her a slight smile, looking her right in the eyes like she always did when she actually wanted to look away. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

 

* * *

 

She spotted her tattoo before she spotted her. Vernal had never forgotten a tattoo she had worked on, not even those from back when she had only assisted, and even in dim light of the club there was no way she wouldn’t recognise Hazel’s style.

She didn’t immediately recognise her because she was wearing her hair down, long, white curls falling down her back. Her blouse was transparent at the sides and her back, enough to show her tattoo and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

It must have been two or three years ago that she had last seen her, back in the tattoo studio she had long left since, but this was the last place where she had expected to see her again, especially in this outfit. She wasn’t even sure why she approached her.

“You’re the girl from the tattoo shop, right?” Winter asked. Vernal was surprised she remembered her. She looked older with her hair down, older and less unapproachable. Still, she clung to her glass of wine while they exchanged the necessities that seemed to bore both of them. What is your name, what do you do, how do you like the music?

“I came with a two acquaintances from my unit,” Winter said. “But they’re making out with some random men they’ve met somewhere. Not a huge loss, though. I’ve never really liked them.”

“Then why did you come here with them?” Vernal asked.

Winter shrugged. Months later Vernal would understand that it didn’t mean that she didn’t care but that she didn’t have anyone else.

“What’s it like in the military?” Vernal asked. “Seems so uptight and strict to me.”

“I’m used to it.” She shrugged again. Much later Vernal would learn that sometimes it also meant she didn’t want to be reminded of her own vulnerability even though it followed her with every step and breath she took. “Also not drowning in debt after graduating from university is not too bad.”

“You always seemed like the kind of girl who doesn’t have to worry about that.”

“My father refused to pay for my education if I didn’t pick a business degree, but I’ve never cared about that. I never cared about his company either. So I packed my things, told him to keep his money and let the military pay for med school.”

Months later Vernal would think back to her words and wonder why she hadn’t cared back then. “Do you want another drink?” she asked now, trying to avoid the heavy topic.

They kissed to a bad remix of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Vernal wondered how someone’s kiss could feel so warm and so impersonal at the same time. How someone’s body could be pressed against hers while also feeling like she was being kept at distance, like Winter was nothing but a made up façade that she kept from her quite well.

But there was a glimpse of who she really was, and somehow that and her warm lips were enough to keep her around.

 

* * *

 

Winter came back with two cups of coffee. She didn’t just give her one but sat down next to her. _At least she had made the first move_ , Vernal thought, _at least I didn’t give in this time_. It made her angry that she still thought like that.

“You tried to pay with your credit card,” Winter said. “But they only accept cash for orders under five euros. What I don’t get is why they hire someone who doesn’t speak English at an international airport.”

“Maybe they’re glad they got anyone at all.” She carefully sipped on her coffee. Sugar, no milk. Winter had remembered that. Well, of course she had. “I can’t believe our flight has a five hour delay.”

“We’re still early. We can make it in time.” She pushed some strands of hair out of her face. She was wearing it in a loose braid for the flight. It looked good on her, but Vernal had to fight the urge to tell her that her blouse and chinos didn’t count as a casual travel outfit.

“Why are you even going?” Vernal asked. It was one of the questions she had promised herself not to ask, but she had never cared much about the decision her past self had made.

“It’s a wedding and I was invited.” She looked away, holding her cup of coffee in her hands without taking a sip.

“Qrow’s wedding.”

“You’ve always been the one to hold grudges against people, not me.”

“Against Qrow?”

“And me.” She looked up, staring right into her eyes, and shrugged. Vernal was the one to look away first.

“You know nothing about that is true.”

“Which part?”

“You look like you want to scratch Qrow’s eyes out every time you see him.”

“Okay, maybe, but not going would have seemed… petty. Unprofessional.”

“You’ve always cared too much about what people think.”

 

* * *

 

There was something about Winter wearing her clothes that made it seem like the walls of ice she had built around her had melted for just a second. Vernal watched her make coffee even though she always made it too strong, her eyes wandering over loose strands of hair that had escaped her messy bun, the oversized Nirvana shirt that still looked flattering on her, her bare legs.

“You’re staring again,” Winter said as if it actually bothered her.

“You’re half naked.”

“You’re saying that as if you mind.” Winter’s lips curled into one of the rare smirks that showed who she really was behind the façade she kept up even when they were alone

“Are you staying for breakfast?” Vernal asked. It sounded like she didn’t want her to, but the only reason she asked was because she didn’t want her to leave.

“I have to meet up with my sister.” She took two cups from the kitchen sink that they had Vernal had left to dry there yesterday. “Her piano lesson got cancelled, but she didn’t tell our parents. Gives us an hour in peace.”

It was something Vernal had never understood. Winter hated most of her family with fierce passion, but she still used every opportunity to meet up with her sister. No matter how much Vernal appreciated the family she had chosen, she didn’t need them around all the time. Yang was about the age of Winter’s sister and not seeing her for weeks or even months at a time didn’t seem that unusual to her. Maybe it was because Winter felt more protective of Weiss than Vernal felt of Yang. Yang would be fine no matter what, and if she did need her help she’d let her know.

“I got time for coffee, though.” Winter sat down at the kitchen table, their knees touching. “They might send me on a mission next month. Not for too long, but it could end up being a week or two.”

Raven had never told her much about this job or Ozpin, but enough to leave Vernal with an unnerving feeling in her stomach. “So if I don’t hear anything from you I’ll just assume you’re dead?”

“If you don’t hear anything from me assume I’m fine. If I died someone would let you know.”

Vernal stared into her cup. The thought of Winter telling her boss to let her know something had happened in case of an emergency seemed both ridiculous and flattering. Like this was something serious. “I don’t drink my coffee with milk, you know”, she said, just to say something.

“Oh, yeah. You told me.”

“I don’t actually mind, just… next time.”

 

* * *

 

“They can’t just cancel our flight like that.” Vernal glared at Winter as if it was her fault. “We’re already late.”

“Come on, you didn’t think I just left empty handed, did you? We have two seats for the next flight at half past eleven and we’re allowed to wait in the first class lounge.”

More hours she’d spend trying to avoid her. “Well, I hope they have coffee there.”

 

* * *

 

Vernal had always hated hospitals. The smell made her sick, the buzzing sound of medical equipment and Winter’s pale face between scratchy bed sheets, stiff from being washed too often.

“It’s not a big deal,” Winter said, her voice fragile.

“No, you just got shot.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest as if that helped to bring a barrier between her and the fear that hadn’t let go of her ever since she had gotten the call from Winter’s boss.

“That’s the job. I was just –“

“Then your job sucks.”

“You always knew about the risk, you knew about it even before we were dating.” Her voice cracked a little when she spoke louder.

“Okay, let’s not have that conversation now.” Vernal got up to get her a glass of water, and really just so she had an excuse not to look at her for a moment.

“I do want to have that conversation now.” Winter tried to sit up and then bit her lip from the pain.

“Seriously, calm down. You just got shot.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there.” She let herself fall back down on the bed and stoically stared at the ceiling. “I chose this job. If you can’t be supportive of it then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Vernal slammed the glass onto the bedside table, water splashed against a vase with sunflowers that Vernal knew Winter hated. “Are you seriously trying to break up with me because I’m not supportive enough of you getting shot?”

“I spoke hypothetically.” She avoided to look at her like she always did when things got too personal for her.

“Have you ever thought about what this means for me? How I feel when Ironwood calls me to tell me you’ve got shot and are in the hospital, nothing else, not if you’re gonna make it or not? When I have to watch Ironwood yell at Qrow for getting you into danger and being to blame for you being _shot_ before anyone even tells me what’s happening? This isn’t just about you, Winter.”

“I was careful. You know I’m always careful. I didn’t get good at my job for not being careful.”

“But you still got shot.”

She rubbed her eyes before she stared at the ceiling again and Vernal wasn’t sure why she was surprised she wasn’t crying. “It shouldn’t have happened,” she said eventually. “It was Qrow’s fault.”

 

* * *

 

The first class lounge had comfortable armchairs, decent coffee, men in business suits, and Winter sitting next to her on the couch, typing something on her phone while Vernal tried not to notice how close she was.

The reason why Vernal had always been hesitant to let people into her life was that she couldn’t let go. She knew they had broken up, but she still remembered why she had fallen in love with her way too vibrantly to ignore the smell of her perfume and the way she whipped her head when strands of hair fell into her face. She tried to focus on her sketch book, but it was hard not to draw Winter right now.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she said.

Vernal looked up. “Yeah?”

“I want to get a tattoo.” She stared at the black screen of her phone before she finally looked at her. “To cover up the scar where the bullet hit me. Is it weird to ask you to do it? I understand if you don’t want to, but maybe you know someone who’s good. I don’t know, I just… you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, of course I’ll do it.” She looked at her sketchbook, turning the pages until she had blank, white paper in front of her. “Do you know what you want to get?”

“Flowers. I’m not sure which ones though.”

“That’ll work well.”

“You know, I’m… I’m sorry for taking this out on you.”

Vernal looked up. Winter was staring at her hands. “You don’t have to –“

“Yes, I do. I wasn’t alright, I didn’t just move on from getting shot and almost dying, but instead of seeing that I took it out on you.”

“I could have been more supportive though. I knew you weren’t okay and everything I did was getting into fights with you about it.”

“But you were the only one who said those things. It’s not your fault you didn’t know how to deal with a girlfriend who has post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Pretty stupid we broke up about it, huh?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Vernal closed the sketch book, clinging to her pen as if it was the thing keeping her from scratching old wounds open again. “Can I see the scar? Just so I get an idea of what I have to work with.”

“Here?”

“We’re in Germany, no one here knows us, and no one’s looking at us anyway.”

She sighed, then nodded. She pulled her blouse out of her pants and then up until Vernal could see the scar that still made her stomach drop. “It’s not even that big.”

“It healed well.” She stretched out her hand before she could stop herself, running her fingertips over Winter’s warm skin. “We can work with that.”

“It’s not even so no one can see the scar anymore, it’s more about what I see in the mirror. Seeing something positive rather than being reminded of everything that has happened immediately.”

“Just tell me which flowers you want and I’ll sketch something for you.” She looked up. She hadn’t realised how close Winter was all of a sudden, her blue eyes not darting away. She wanted to look away, she wanted to bring some distance between them, but instead she leaned forward.

The kiss was sloppy and tasted like coffee, but still Vernal didn’t want to swap anything for Winter’s warmth. She pulled away way too soon.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Mean to what? Vernal wasn’t even sure.

“But maybe you should.”

Vernal wasn’t the type to feel awkward about things, wasn’t the type to hide who she liked and what she thought, but right now she didn’t even know what she wanted. All she knew was that she liked Winter’s lips and preferred kissing her over having to come up with something to say.

 

* * *

 

She woke up when they landed in France, her head on Winter’s shoulder and her eyelids heavy from the lack of sleep, on her lips the taste of Winter’s kiss and lingering uncertainty.

“We’ll still make it in time,” Winter said, running her fingers through Vernal’s short hair as if that was something they still did.

“I hope they didn’t lose your luggage. I don’t want to attend hat wedding in sweatpants.”

“I have an emergency dress in my hand luggage. Didn’t you have a plan B?”

“Borrowing something from Yang.” She shrugged. Winter always planned everything ahead because she needed that security more than anything, and Vernal’s way of letting things happen and then figuring something out had always freaked her out.

Everyone else around them seemed almost nervous, eager to get out of their seats and leave the plane, but Vernal didn’t want to separate from Winter just yet. She pulled out her phone. It didn’t even turn back on, the battery was dead for good.

“I have to call Raven so she can pick us up,” Vernal said. “Can I use your phone?”

“Sure, but I don’t think I have her number. I can text Weiss, though.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” She looked at her again, tempted to lean forward to kiss her again. It felt like she was wasting an opportunity if she didn’t, but maybe this was wrong. Maybe there would be more opportunities, maybe this wasn’t a choice she could only make now but one she could make again and again if this was really meant to be. Maybe Winter’s fingers playing with her hair meant more than any of it. Vernal sat up. “Are you really sure you want to attend Qrow’s wedding?”

Winter shrugged. “No, but I knew you would be there.”

“You could have called.”

“You know me.”

“Yes, I do.” She reached for Winter’s hand and squeezed it for a second. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I need a shower.”


End file.
